Like You Want to Win
by 1000faces
Summary: In which self-sacrifice is synonymous with suicide. And Mai is synonymous with supremely unqualified live-in assistant. Quite the demotion, really.


Noll = Arrogance.

Mai = Recklessness.

Noll ? Recklessness.

Gene swears they have their wires crossed somewhere.

Relentless and uncanny, Oliver Davis the _Brave_: Not one to meditate on the weather, excepting where it concerned his line of work. Unfortunately, other certain circumstances were placing enough of a strain on productivity already, and what did that leave him?

The time—the boredom— to reflect groggily on the winter weather that morning.

He was well acquainted with the piss poor climate in the country of his youth. He'd never begrudged a rainy day before, nor stilled at the window watching water droplets, listened for raindrops on the glass, observed the gray processions of umbrellas down the lane. He distinctly remembered Gene doing all of that.

He didn't remember a time when it had rained every day for two months straight, though. The sun was low in the sky, but the clouds had drained away all the light, left the streets dim, cold, and wet—he wouldn't have to concern himself with that at all, provided that the lights at his bedside kept function for the next however-long, and the thermal controls were all properly regulated.

Regardless, he took a moment to watch the street. The book in his hand wouldn't go anywhere. Besides that, another headache was coming on, preventing any progress in his research. They were still nasty, the headaches, and worse for the fact that Naru had never had them _before_.

They were borderline debilitating, disorienting—unavoidable. In that pressing discomfort, he could hear nothing but a maddening, pitter-pattering downpour, and felt nothing but ache and chills he couldn't fight off. This was only the barest indication that his body had gone haywire. One symptom of many symptoms.

For all his genius, there were things,_ circumstances, _that were hard to adjust to. Problems of his that couldn't be fixed.

He had a hard time accepting that. But nobody would have guessed it. He was living his life as well as he could, and there was never any doubt about that. Naru didn't do doubt, even in situations where he was forced to stoop to lounging by windows, caring for fresh air, contemplating something as mundane and pointless as the weather.

All that soured and aggravated him, though, and in that the situation was killing him slowly, a toxin, a depressant. He was stuck. There was no moving forward, no action to undertake, no case to solve—the problem was well and true out of his hands, or so he was coming to believe.

He had never realized how frustrating that was.

And it was worse if all he could do was make negative observations and form negative thoughts, festering in negativity, for optimism was a skill he had never thought he'd need. That was in Gene's sector of being, as was all the philosophizing, all the what-ifs. He was able to function fine without that nonsense so long as he had the things that held him together all bundled in his hands.

Namely, he just needed something to _do_.

He allowed himself this childishness. His thoughts were his own. And nobody else was around to provide the dizzying immaturity that he'd never quite gone without until now.

First, from his late twin brother, whose associated memories appeared in his thoughts more and more and more with this excessive down time, so constant and lingering that it was the closest to a haunting it could get without involving the spiritual.

Second, in the form of a peppy high school girl from Japan, who he couldn't forget about either. He took responsibility for his own actions—the very same that had landed him in his own personal hell—and he knew neither Gene nor Mai would let it slide if _he_ was immature enough to pin the blame on anyone else. These actions and their consequences were simply _strongly associated_ with that peppy high school girl, who should be studying up for finals just then by his estimation. He had the image down; he knew exactly how pitiful it would look.

Probably stressing out, begging her friends for assistance in a simultaneously pathetic and endearing way. Bemoaning every second but frantically sticking her nose in textbooks she wouldn't understand half the content of. Not giving up, and smiling at the end of the day—or passing out after hours of study?

If her brain was getting more use than his, he had reason for concern right there.

But after all was said and done, Mai's life was probably much more peaceable with her stint as a ghost hunter over. She was just another loose end that had been tied up neatly. An employee satisfied, an amateur edified, a job well done. As he had nothing else to take him to sleep but pills and thoughts, that picture did him an embarrassing amount of good: the thought of Mai falling asleep over her books, safe and sound.

* * *

[ happy birthday davis boys! i'm posting a beta of a narumai fic that i'm having second thoughts about... i usually don't ask for feedback, but feedback would be reeealllyyyy nice. since it's a beta, it's not on my main uvu]


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